My Name is Lauren Mallory
by Wishi-chan
Summary: A short fic about a minor character in the Twilight saga, Lauren Mallory, one of the very few people that actively dislike Bella. Seeing as she was effectively a blank slate, most of this is made up. A very mild critique.


Well, this is a really weird fic. I just woke up one morning and decided to write a fanfic from a totally flat, completely unlikable character like Lauren. Thus, this fic was born, the result of me taking a character and trying to give her a personality out of the tiny bits of information we have been given on her. I turned out nothing like I expected it too! It just kind of grew. Organically.

The views expressed in this piece of fan fiction are not necessarily my views, but my view of what this character would think of things in the Twilight verse from her point of view. So, please, Bella lovers don't kill me. And I don't have anything against small towns! I live in one of the smallest cities in the world (I think)!

Disclaimer: If I were Stephanie Meyer, I would be enjoying life with my sparkly playthings, not writing fanfic on character she barely thought five minutes to think up. So, yeah, I don't own Twilight. And I'm not making any money from this.

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Hello. My name is Lauren. Lauren Mallory. You might have heard of me, but you don't know me, and you certainly don't know my story. You probably know me as That Bitch, who gossips away with Frizzy Top in the corner, got scalped sometime after the Cullen's left town and has nothing better to do with my time that glare evilly at Bella Swan and Co. Just because Taylor Crowley liked her more than me after he almost ran her over with his truck. Do you really think I'm that shallow?

I'm normal. Like, really normal. Nothing special about me. No shape shifting powers, vamparic lovers or demon spawn following me around. I live in Forks on the Washington Peninsula. Forks is possibly the wettest place in the USA, but I'm not going to go on about that. That would be boring. Plus, it has no actual significance to my story. How bored would you have to be to write about the _weather_? Then again, I guess I just did.

My favourite class is…probably English. I like to write. A lot. I'm not very good, though, so I don't like to show people. I like Government too. Mr Jefferson is a good teacher. I'd like to be a novelist, inventing my own secret worlds. They always turn out wrong, though, completely over done, cliché, and plain old _embarrassing._ I have thousands of old note books at home, filled with rubbish that makes me cringe to even look at it. I wouldn't throw them out, though. It would be like throwing away a part of me.

I didn't always want to be a writer, obviously. When I was little, and we; my mom, dad, Emily and me, used to live in California, I wanted to be an actress, or a singer, or a model, depending on the week. Then I grew up. I saw that people like that-people living their dreams-often ended up in tragedy. I guess that's a bit of a generalisation, but it's so hard to do things like that, break into the business, get exactly what you want and live happily ever after without being ripped apart.

But still…Okay, I admit it, I jumped at the chance to be a model when that guy stopped me on the street and handed me his card, telling me he was a talent scout. My mom checked out the website, as well. It seemed okay, everything legit, but instead, this guy swallows my money after telling me to get a "cutting edge" new hairstyle. And tada, you have me, freshly bald and skint. Okay, so not quite bald, but I didn't have any money left. That was ten months allowance gone on the fake talent scout and a crappy haircut.

So imagine it. I walk into school, dirt poor, with a stupid hair cut. Angela was sympathetic, as you'd expect. Mike just kinda stared, and Jess yelled at me for being so dumb. But I get used to it. And then, one day, Bella comes into school and sits down at lunch as usual, not doing anything, like a freaking zombie, and then she starts talking. For the first time in months, she starts talking. Then she looks at me. Or down at me, rather. And she stares for a few seconds, and then I see it. It's easy to notice, after ages of her being an emotionless puppet. She's laughing at me. Not on the outside, but on the inside…She thinks my hair is funny, and not in a nice way, either. She didn't like me, I knew that, and to tell you the truth, it was mutual. Just because I like to gossip a bit, I'm a bad person suddenly…I know I can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, but what did I do to deserve her condemnation? That look in her eyes, like she was glad that I had been humiliated.

Whoa. Sorry about that. Kinda got a bit off topic there, but Bella Swan makes me so mad. She just appears in Forks, causing a big ruckus, becomes instantly popular for everything I had to work for…_!_ Then she goes crazy after her boyfriend leaves, goes all suicidal for one boy, like its true love and she's going to die without him. I swear that put feminism fifty years back. Then she acts a little more normal, and after ignoring us all for months, Angela and everyone just welcome her back like nothing ever happened. They wouldn't do that for anyone else.

But poor little, clumsy, clever, pretty, pretty little Bella, with her perfect boyfriend, well that's a totally different case.

God, I'm sorry. As I said, Bella makes me mad. Anyway, like I was saying, I want to be a writer. A journalist would be good too, like my aunt, who lives in Manhattan. I don't get why anyone would want to live in a tiny place like this for the rest of their lives, when they could live in New York. I still don't get why we moved from California to Forks. I always thought, until then, that people who lived in small towns lived there because they'd been born there. Sun and Disney World for rain, boredom and isolation? I hate having to go out of town every time I want to go shopping.

I was moving into middle school when we moved here, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been, I guess. The first friend I made when I came to Forks was Angela. Most of the other kids in school already knew each other, but Angela walked right up to me and asked, in her quiet, shy voice, if I wanted to be friends with her. She was always the nicest one out of us all.

For a while, it was me and her, best friends against the world, then Jessica, her and me, the year before we went to high school, a proper power trio. We were inseparable.

In high school, our group got bigger, and that was fine, because, at the core, we knew we would be best friends forever. In our sophomore year, we drifted apart, only a little, as you do. Then, in junior year, Bella came, and it was still fine, and then the Cullens left, and she was out for the count. Then, the Cullens came back.

We were split, irrevocably, down the middle, into Us and Them. Angela, Ben, Mike, Bella, and the standoffish, unnaturally beautiful Edward and Alice. Them. I t was a shame. If things had been different, Alice seems like the sort of person I could have been friends with.

So that's it. It's not my whole story, but it's a part of it. I know that I was mean to Bella. If I saw her again I'd probably apologise, try, at least, to make amends. I was just jealous, I guess. She had everything I had, without having to work, or so it seemed to me, half as hard as I did. She never seemed to act, just react. From what I could tell, she based her whole existence around that one boy, Edward Cullen. I didn't really know her. I didn't what she went through, or how hard she actually had to work to get her happy ending. I'm just an ordinary girl. For all I knew she could have been extraordinary. For all I knew her life could have been full of tragedy.

By the way, you know what makes me really mad? Like, really, really mad? Romeo and Juliet. Shakespeare's a genius, but that play really annoys me. Romeo? An emo Gary Stu, more like. People think that Romeo and Juliet are great, romantic heroes or something, but about five minutes before Romeo and Juliet met, Romeo was pining after another girl with equal fervour. The pair knew absolutely _nothing_ about each other, and they ended up killing themselves because of a _failure of the postal service_. They're shallow, stupid teenagers who screw everything up and over for their "love". They're sort of a negative role model couple.

Sorry, that was random.

But true….

The End...

Hope you enjoyed the fic, flames will be used to cook my Christmas dinner, feedback appreciated, and, err, oh yeah, Happy Holidays, everybody!


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